Opal is right. There is nothing poetic about the word blog or any of its forms. Although I think it sounds more like the noise one of my cats makes just prior to hacking up a hairball. Which my new carpeting was christened with the other night. I don't know which of them left the bloggy prize for me, I'm only happy I didn't step in it. Which is surprising, considering that it was strategically placed between my bed and the bathroom at some point during the night. I had no idea when I sat down here that I would write about hairballs. Opal has a cat named Muffin, though, which seems like more than a coincidence at the moment. Come to think of it, I ate a muffin today! And that may well sum up the mysterious nature of blogging. In fact, if Opal was divorced rather than married to Earl, had two sons rather than a daughter, and had two cats instead of a cat and a dog, I might be concerned that I am in the process of morphing into Opal as I age. Now I can worry about that instead of the swine flu.
3 comments:
Be like george bush and don't worry about anything. Be happy!
I love my cat. Earl is his name. He's been with me a looong time (he's 16) and survived colon cancer! The hairball thing though...oy veh. He doesn't cough them up too often, but when he does, you can bet it will be 1)on something I just washed and 2)hidden just well enough that I don't see it until it's made contact with my flesh. Just thinking about it gives me the shivers.
George is a v-idiot, or a f-idiot, depending on my mood. And I'm really quite happy, probably because I make an effort not to worry about things I have no control over.
Tantra Flower, my friend Colleen also has a cat named Earl! He was originally named Pearl because of his very pink nose, about the same color as a Pink Pearl eraser. After it became evident that he was a boy, the "p" was dropped and he became Earl.
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